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CANNES 2026 Un Certain Regard

Laïla Marrakchi • Regista di Les Fraises

“Per parlare apertamente, serve un certo privilegio, una certa sicurezza”

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- CANNES 2026: La regista marocchina offre uno sguardo dietro le quinte del suo dramma a sfondo sociale ambientato nei campi di fragole della Spagna meridionale

Laïla Marrakchi • Regista di Les Fraises
(© 2026 Fabrizio de Gennaro per Cineuropa - fadege.it, @fadege.it)

Questo articolo è disponibile in inglese.

Freely inspired by a real case from 2019, Strawberries, currently competing in the Un Certain Regard section at the 79th Cannes Film Festival, follows a group of Moroccan seasonal workers facing exploitation and abuse. We spoke to Laïla Marrakchi about building her characters, filming in the greenhouses of Andalusia and the cultural misunderstandings at the heart of the story.

Cineuropa: The film feels deeply rooted in reality. Was it based on a true story?
Laïla Marrakchi: It started from a real case involving a Moroccan woman who decided to speak out about what was happening in the strawberry fields in Spain. I met this woman and the lawyer involved in the case and I did a lot of research. But in the end, the film is only freely inspired by that story. I began working on it around 2019, so I wrote it over six years. During that time, I met many women and collected many other stories, so the film became something larger.

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What interested you most about that original case?
I was fascinated by the fact that these women decided to speak out. At the time, there had only been a few similar cases. I kept asking myself: what makes someone take that step? My main character, Hasna, is different from the others. She is more emancipated, more educated, physically stronger – she was even a taekwondo champion. That is why she becomes the one who speaks out, not only for herself, but also for her friend Miriam.

There are repeated references to Kill Bill in the film. At the beginning, they almost suggest that we might find ourselves watching a violent revenge thriller.
I liked playing with that expectation. Hasna presents herself as someone strong, almost invincible, like a fighter. But behind that image, she is fragile. She hides her femininity and vulnerability because life has forced her to survive in that way. I liked the contradiction. In the shower scene, for example, when violence erupts, she withdraws. That interested me more than creating a heroic revenge character. In extreme situations, we never really know how we will react. I wanted the character to stay unpredictable and human.

The film is also very much an ensemble piece. Tell us more about the other characters.
The group was essential for me because, through these different women, I wanted to show various ways of coping with exploitation. There is Khadija, the older woman who returns every season. She has accepted a compromise. She knows the system and survives within it. Then there is Miriam, who is almost the opposite of Hasna. She comes from a rural background, is deeply afraid and carries a lot of shame. She is a good wife and mother, she is afraid of everything. She doesn’t have the tools to speak out. For me, she represents the true victim of this system of domination.

So, being a good wife and being afraid of everything are interrelated?
Well, when you are afraid, you look for someone who can protect you, but then that protection can become domination and Miriam is in this kind of relationship. She goes to Spain because her family needs money, even though she doesn’t want to go. She is afraid, and that’s why she becomes close to Hasna from the beginning – she feels that Hasna is stronger than her.

Does the gap between the workers and the Spanish lawyer trying to help them come from their different perceptions, perhaps?
Yes, because it is also about misunderstanding. The lawyer works for an NGO and genuinely wants to help, but communication between her and the women is complicated. There is a cultural and language gap, and also different ideas about freedom and resistance. Sometimes she expects these women to react like European women would react, but they come from completely different realities. To speak out, you need a certain privilege, a certain security.

What was the production process like?
Very physical. We shot the film in only 25 days, so every day felt like a miracle. The greenhouses around Huelva were extremely difficult locations – the heat, the humidity, the scale of them. We also built the camp ourselves and the shower scenes were technically very complicated. This was not a film shot in comfortable apartments or studios. There was always wind, rain or another problem. I had to always stay flexible and sometimes integrate unexpected things into the film itself.

How did you cast the actresses?
At first, I thought I would work with non-professional actresses, maybe even real workers. But I realised that the responsibility would be too heavy. After filming, what happens to these women? I decided instead to work with actresses. Nisrin Erradi as Hasna was an obvious choice from the moment I met her, although I wanted to show her in a completely new way – as a tomboy, strong and physical. For Miriam, though, I changed actresses just one month before shooting. Hajar Graigaa was originally helping me adapt the dialogue into dialect and coaching the younger actresses. Then I asked her to try the role and immediately I knew she was Miriam. She brought incredible strength and depth to the character.

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